


The Hypocrisy Known as Life

by dovelette



Category: The Scarlet Letter - All Media Types
Genre: 17th Century, Adultery, American History, Arthur - Freeform, Biblical References, Books, Capital Punishment, Christian Character, Christianity, Colonialism, Colonies, Community - Freeform, Complete, Crimes & Criminals, Crisis of Faith, Deception, Desire, Early Modern Era, F/M, Forbidden Love, Gen, God - Freeform, Guilt, Hiding in Plain Sight, Historical, Hypocrisy, Implied Sexual Content, Inner Dialogue, Innocent, Internal Conflict, Judgment, Languages and Linguistics, Literature, Loss of Innocence, Mark - Freeform, Old-Fashioned, One Shot, POV First Person, Peer Pressure, Priest, Priests, Public Humiliation, Regret, Religion, Religious Content, Religious Guilt, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Responsibility, Romance, Scandal, Secret Relationship, Secrets, Sham - Freeform, Shame, Short One Shot, Shunning, Silence, Sinner, Slut Shaming, Social Anxiety, Sorrow, Soul-Searching, Spirits, Spiritual, Victim - Freeform, faith - Freeform, guilty, guilty concious, hester - Freeform, historical fiction - Freeform, pious, puritan, religious, reputation, sin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 20:00:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3146813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dovelette/pseuds/dovelette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A first person stream of consciousness from Dimmesdale’s point of view attempting to capture the emotions he felt when he was accusing Hester upon the scaffold in the beginning of "The Scarlet Letter."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hypocrisy Known as Life

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and may you take pleasure in what I have offered as a small contribution to this lovely, romantic yet tragic novel.
> 
> **Disclaimer:**
> 
> Written in 2009. Uploaded from Fanfiction.net
> 
> Dimmesdale and Hester Prynne, and quoted dialogue from "The Scarlet Letter" © Nathaniel Hawthorne.
> 
> I do not claim or take ownership of these characters.

I stood above her, looking down into those knowing orbs, those sparkling windows that were staring back into my soul. As our eyes connected, I truly wished that I could glance away but I was unable. I felt as if I were some how transfixed by those golden irises which were clearly conscious of that solitary flaw - an embarrassing short-coming, the ultimate sin and pinnacle failure of my existence.

Inhaling shakily, the cold air tore at my throat as the rate of my inhalation increased along with the speed of a faltering heart. My voice cracked when I tried to speak, salt-doused lips refusing to release the pent up secrets seemingly fused into marrow. However the better nature within forced a second attempt, thus allowing for my petrified frame to utter a single sentence,

"I-I charge thee to speak out the name of thy fellow sinner." I pleaded with her, desperately appealing for her to reveal my sin to the entire congregation that looked up to me as if I were some sort of god. Far be it from one as low as I to be deified by this blinded rabble yet unaware of guarded compromise and deceit. Unblinkingly, I gazed down into those sun-touched pupils as I summoned an amount of courage within my chest from depths unbeknownst to my personal being.

"Be not silent from any mistaken pity and tenderness for him; for believe me, Hester, though he were to step down from a high place, and stand there beside thee, on thy pedestal of shame, yet better were it so, than to hide a guilty heart through life." Surprisingly, the voice greeting mine ears sounded rich and deep when the tremor of the tone subsided into silence.

The voice continuously rang out clear and strong through the crowded square, yet a melancholy and sorrowful note could be heard beneath the eloquent speech if one were to listen closely enough to recognize and catch the broken whispers that my heart spouted before the multitude of quaint villagers. How could this be occurring? And to a man of God no less. Pious pastor that I am, never having committed an injustice upon another being, or at least, rarely doing so. Unblemished life how desirous, barely splattered with the deep crimson fleck of sin.

If I were so noble, aspiring toward that of heaven and of He who is holy, why then was it that I was captivated so by this vibrant woman shackled below this here dais? How could I have allowed myself to succumb, so weak my piteous determination, in the moment of greatest temptation? I know now what bitterness truly is. My soul weeps and writhes in agony with every bleak morn. This innermost spirit aches with each waking moment for my heart quivers ever presently with fear that some individual will discover this hideous secret and expose the sinner for what I truly am...a disgrace of a man, the mere pretense of a saint beseeching for exaltation.

What consequence! Were it not for that fated meeting with that abhorred woman in the market that shining day. Yet I consider it a pleasure, to have been united with one such as I, both humans deciphering what is concealed beneath this fabricated charade in which we monotonously survive. Chastisement, chagrin fall upon our scalps; a punishment just!

For I, in rebellion, desired to free her of the burden inflicted upon us by the positions of our station. And yet now, my fervent prayer would be to bestow the same reprieve against the blemish cast upon her delicate frame. Oh Hester, beloved of my bosom, darling rose that you are - a reverie of our pleasure now crumbles to ash in my mind.

Turn those burning windows, I would plead if it were not for the predicament harpooning you to the floor beneath the eyes of this absurdly mocking throng. You should not suffer through the indescribable pain bound to your chest in the form of that dammed letter. A cruel blow crafted by pompous old men who have decided to seal your fate in such an undignified manner as though there were not hope.

Sheer irony binds my enduring Hester to this torture alone. For after all, I am equally if not more so to blame for what occurred that accursed night. It is my fault that this is the unfortunate outcome of events. How my soul groans, having wished to have prevailed through the onslaught of seduction that my promiscuous limbs willingly retrieved. Her sweet scent incited my feeble mind to stumble and stray from that which is divine...no, banish the thought. Fie upon my deflecting heart.

Man, summon the courage to announce to the world that I am this adulteress's partner! Adulterer, grip the hand below so that thy mark may imprint upon this chest alike.

However I remain standing on this pulpit above the masses, plaintively weak and pathetically unable to confess that dastardly action which I am solely responsible for.

Even if I were to surrender myself over to the authorities for the appropriate punishment, there will forever linger a stifling weight upon my conscious which tremors at the thought of my flock gazing at my burned frame with disappointment and loathing...nae, my soul can not possibly bare either ending.

Courage! Shivering, I lurch as a memory of lips gasping against flesh tinged by a dappled evening abruptly filters through these conflicting thoughts of morality. Flushed and sweating, it is evident that I cannot stomach witnessing Hester punished while I remain free of all blame and but contrarily, I cannot manage through the entirety of my contracted service with this guilty ethos tearing apart an entire subsistence once certain, unblemished and swaddled by a brilliant innocence.

May the Almighty One receive this solemn prayer and take pity upon sinners struggling through this absurd hypocrisy known as life. Upon realizing that the power to alter my fate is not within grasp; there is naught to do but to accept the destiny laid out before this worn pulpit. I know not what shall happen, as Hester's lips are as silent as the pair my body purses with all its might. All is left to Providence to decide what shall become of the wretched soul of that fair woman and myself, a troubled pair of depraved sinners.

May the Lord have mercy on us all.


End file.
